


Five'll Get You Ten

by aimmyarrowshigh, pinkalldaypinkallnight



Category: Stereo Kicks (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 15:16:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2656754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimmyarrowshigh/pseuds/aimmyarrowshigh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkalldaypinkallnight/pseuds/pinkalldaypinkallnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I discovered a secret door while I was making tea." Tom grunts and heaves at Barclay's massive arm again.  He bites him a little, and then Barclay finally starts moving his big dumb feet.  "And beyond this door is a wonderland of 'somewhere private to have sex.'"</p>
<p>"That's not a secret door," Barclay says.  "That's the pantry."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five'll Get You Ten

Tom knows they should probably be practicing, or spending time with Charlie while he's allowed to be at the house, or filming a VT where they pretend not to hate Louis Walsh. But he finally found the perfect love nest, and he’ll be damned if someone else gets to it first.

It's actually the definition of 'hiding in plain sight,' and he wonders how he's never even noticed it before.

"What's all this?" Barcs asks, his eyes starting to narrow already as he gets ready to laugh at Tom. Who might be dragging Barclay a bit more ferociously than necessary, but Barcs is massive and Tom is not and Barcs is not helping at all, so it takes rather a lot of Tom's energy to get him to follow.

"I discovered a secret door while I was making tea." Tom grunts and heaves at Barclay's massive arm again. He bites him a little, and then Barclay finally starts moving his big dumb feet. "And beyond this door is a wonderland of 'somewhere private to have sex.'"

Barclay plays at being shocked for a moment, before a decidedly dirty grin comes through. "Are you sure it's private, love? Because I, for one, don't want a repeat of the last time."

Tom stops at that, looking up at Barcs and christ, he really is tall. "Are you insinuating that I'm an exhibitionist? Because if you are, I take great offense."

"Not insinuating anything." Barclay sounds a little too innocent to be honest. "Just that last time you found somewhere secret, Stevi walked in and now he's blackmailing us."

"Oh, like anyone really thinks you _don't_ have a massive tattoo of Elvis on your bum." Tom is grumbly. Stevi makes him grumbly.

Barclay's bum, however, does not make him grumbly, and he's glad that Barcs is actually following along now. He looks surprised when Tom bypasses the basement door for the kitchen.

"Voila!"

"That's not a secret door," Barclay says. "That's the pantry."

"Well, I've never noticed it." Tom opens the apparently-not-so-secret door. "And I don't think anyone else has, either. Look: it's empty. Not even a can of beans."

Barclay looks at Tom with thinly veiled confusion. "You thought the pantry was secret? Everyone spends time in the kitchen, you muffin. We were literally in here with the lads not two hours ago."

"I'm telling you, mate, no one notices this door. I mean, the lads don't notice anything unless it's got boobs on it. And no one else cooks! This is it. This is our Xanadu. This is our Valhalla."

"This is what we've stooped to," Barclay agrees. "Fucking in a pantry."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Barclay leans around Tom's shoulder to peer into the pantry. It's not like it's a broom cupboard. It's clean. There's nothing rank in it. It's just a load of empty shelves. "I guess if we bring in a cushion or the like. For the knees. It's not that bad."

"No time, no time! We've only got a few minutes before people start asking where we are. And by people, I mean Casey, the needy bastard."

Barclay sighs, but when he crowds in close to Tom so they can shut the door, he's already half-hard. What a good liar.

His elbow hits the light switch, and they both blink.

"Bit snug, love," Barclay says, and wraps his arms around Tom. His hands cup Tom's bum. "You're lucky I don't mind being close to you."

Tom groans, because that was cheese, even for Barclay. He can't devote time to thinking up a proper response though, as Barclays hands have moved from his arse to the front of his jeans, flicking at the button and gently pulling down the zip.

"Quiet, love," Barclay admonishes in a whisper, his lips against Tom's ear. "We might be in a secret paradise, but it's near enough to kitchen that someone might hear you."

Tom muffles his next groan against Barclay's neck, and gives it a nibble as it's a lovely neck and conveniently in front of his mouth. When Barcs starts to pull at his shirt, he pops off with a last suck and admires his handiwork.

The look Barclay gets when he sees Tom shirtless is something that should be on the cover of dirty magazines, in Tom's opinion. It's equal amounts smolder and puppy eyes, and it's disgustingly hot.

There's just enough room for Barclay to sink to his knees and dip his tongue into Tom's navel as he peels down the tight, tight jeans Tom prefers. He laughs when he sees Tom's little Union Jack briefs, but they make his bulge look good. Barcs probably agrees -- he nuzzles against it, and Tom's stomach flutters.

If Tom's voice is a little on the breathy side of stern when he tells him to get on with it, Barclay's not complaining, sucking through the material until Tom can't think about anything but getting inside Barclay's mouth. He gropes behind him and finds shelves to curl his fingers into for support.

He makes a sound when he hears Barclay pulling his own zip down, because the idea of him getting off on giving Tom head is enough to make the threat of coming then and there very real.

"Quiet," Barclay murmurs again, and then he doesn't tease anymore.

Taking Tom down all the way on the first go is something Barcs has been practicing lately, much to Tom's delight. He’s willing to suffer the many, many blowjobs if it’s a boon to dear Barcs’ confidence. Barclay stays down, sucking hard and running his tongue along the bottom vein of Tom's cock. There’s a familiar soft, wet sound as Barclay works himself over with a loose fist.

It's really unfair how good at everything Barclay is. And if he sounds a little raspy the next day, he just gets _compliments_.

When Barclay pulls off, Tom's both disappointed and confused. When he feels a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him into Barclay's already very limited space, he's even more confused.

"Quiet love, everyone will be able to hear you." Barclay whispers out, and Tom realizes he's been methodically thumping his head against the shelf behind him.

Tom laughs through his nose and covers his face with both hands. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Barclay says, and gets to his feet. His jeans and pants stay around his ankles. "I'll just have to keep you quiet."

He kisses him, and it's sweeter than it should be when Tom's cock's already wet.

Tom reaches down only to meet Barclay's massive hand getting ready to encircle both of them at once, and Tom's cock spits precome in appreciation. The slide is slick, wet with spit Barclay left behind, and the combined sensation of Barclay's hand and cock rubbing against Tom's makes it hard to focus.

"Did you happen to bring lube to the sex paradise, love?"

Tom's aware, this time, when his head falls against the wall with a loud thunk. "Shit."

"I'll take that as a ‘no.’ Well… that's fine, babe. There's plenty I can do without." Barclay whispers with a raised eyebrow and, god, that shouldn't be as hot as it is.

Tom kisses his stubbly cheek. "Love how resourceful you are."

"Love how easy you are." Barclay shoots right back. "Honestly, a pantry?"

"It's a secret sex den." Tom might whine a little. It _is_ a secret sex den, and Barclay's stopped moving his hand.

When he looks up, there's that damn eyebrow again, and Tom decides to take things into his own hands, literally.

He knocks Barclay's unmoving hand aside and tries to get both of their cocks in his, admittedly small, grasp and, when that fails, drops to his knees.

And _shit _Barcs was right about bringing a pillow, the linoleum floor is murder on the knees.__

__This sex den is going to take some work. Maybe some candles, too, and like… oils and things. Handcuffs. A whole bed._ _

__For now, he decides to return the favor from earlier, and while he can’t go all the way down on Barclay's cock -- which is definitely in proportion to the rest of his body -- he thinks he gives it a fair shake._ _

__Not that he's necessarily sucked a lot of cocks, but Barclay's cock is really lovely compared to most of them out there, Tom thinks._ _

__He realizes he's been thinking for too long when Barclay let's out a cut-off moan and lets a hand drift down to Tom's head. He's not pulling his hair, just reminding Tom that he exists and his cock is very much sitting in Tom's mouth._ _

__He wraps his hand around what can't fit into his mouth and gives it a good college try, but this floor really is killer. This is not a floor meant for a sex den._ _

__"Sorry," Tom whispers, pulling back and standing up with a wince. "Gotta figure something else out here. I could nip out and get a pillow from the living room?"_ _

__"What, like that? You'll put someone's eye out."_ _

__"I don't know!" Tom very much doesn't whine. "How did you stay down there for so bloody long? It's torture!"_ _

__Barclay just laughs, his eyes soft and fond, and he kisses Tom's nose. "Soft city boy."_ _

__"I'm very much not soft, thank you." Tom humps against his hip just as a reminder._ _

__From the crinkle in Barclay's eyes, Tom knows he's holding back a laugh and as a thank you for not taking the piss, Tom snugs up to Barclay, kissing his chest._ _

__Barclay hauls Tom up so that their cocks are level and wet and pressed together, able to slide and catch fat sensitive head against fat, sensitive head. Tom wraps his legs around Barclay's waist and attempts to get them moving with the same rhythm, rocking against him until they sync up. The shelves behind them are handy for this, just a little extra support so Barclay doesn't have to bear Tom's whole weight while his thighs start to shake._ _

__Cocks rubbing together in perfect harmony, Tom catches Barclay's mouth in a heated kiss, which only serves to get him even closer to the edge._ _

__The shelves creak behind them, but the whole house is always so loud that probably -- hopefully -- no one notices._ _

__It's Barclay's arm wrapping around and grabbing a handful of Tom's bum, one finger straying close to his hole, that sends Tom over._ _

__He shakes and shivers and then is weak in Barclay's big arms, but he still gets a hand down around Barclay's cock again to help pull him off._ _

__He tugs two, three times and Barclay's done for, muffling a drawn-out moan in Tom's shoulder. It should be impossible for him to continue holding Tom up, but he manages for a beat, until he slides to the ground with Tom in his lap._ _

__It's only when he's come out of a post-orgasmic fog that Tom realizes there's noise coming from outside their secret sex den._ _

__"Has anyone seen Dads?" It's Casey, at the top of his voice as literally always. Chairs are banging and scraping against the floor, the refrigerator door clicking open and shut until it begins its electric hum. "I looked everywhere for them."_ _

__Barclay looks up at Tom with wide eyes, clearly begging him to not make a scene._ _

__Tom just collapses into Barclay's shoulder, stark naked, overcome with laughter and belly slick with come._ _

__Barclay slaps a hand over Tom's mouth to muffle the giggles that won't stop coming until he, too, begins to laugh, because of course this is their lives. They tuck their faces into each other’s necks and laugh, breath too hot and damp to be comfortable but happy, at least, to be together._ _

__Eventually, James and Casey start arguing with Mikey about whose turn it is to go look for 'Dads', because none of them wants to see them naked again, but _that's obviously_ what _they are, no matter_ where _they are.__ _

__"Too right," Tom can't help whispering in Barclay's ear, and Barcs dissolves in laughter again. Tom touches his thumb to Barclay’s cheek, just because he has such a great laugh._ _

__The argument gets fainter and fainter, and it seems that they've gone upstairs, to "the only room in the bloody house they haven't got off in, I swear," and Tom feels it's about time to get in the shower, come drying on his belly._ _

__"D'you wanna check that the coast is clear, or shall I?"_ _

__No sooner has he asked then does Stevi's voice start booming from the kitchen. Traded one headache for another._ _

__"I think it's dinnertime," Barclay whispers back. "We might be be stuck in your lovely secret sex den for a while yet."_ _

__Tom shifts over Barclay's lap. "Could make the best of it."_ _


End file.
